Garden of Roses
by fuuh
Summary: Frodo leaves Sam in attempt to protect him from the ring, but later regrets it. Soon enough, he meets up with an angered Sam, who really doesnt act like Sam at all. Meanwhile, Sam believes he is seeing his Master, who long left. Are they being deceived?
1. Untold Passion

here we go! my first slash fic ^___^ I hope everyone enjoys it! I have alot planned for it ^^; I haven't seen many people writer FrodoxSam...its always AragornxLegolas. =( I read this beautiful AragornxFrodo one...its actually under Favorite stories..but its SO beautiful! lol, also I think "New Found Mass (remix)" by the get up kids should be like, the OFFICIAL Sam and Frodo theme...it reminds me of them SO much...

ANYWAY, R&R. PEACE YO

Oh...and I changed the "Frodo-san" thing, LOL. I'm an idiot.

----

"Mr. Frodo....?" Samwise asked, staring towards Frodo infront of the fire.

"Hai, dear Sam?" Frodo replied, still with his head down.

Sam looked at Frodo's face, reading his mind and knowing he was deep in thought. Sam pulled his knees up to his chest, hugged them, and thought, _If only it were Frodo is these arms of mine..._He sighed. He finally looked back up and found the concerned eyes of Frodo on his own eyes.

"Well friend," Frodo smiled a bit. "What's wrong?"

Sam smiled. "Nothing Frodo. I wanted to see if you were alright," he wouldn't dare say how he thought about Frodo, or how beautiful his master was when he looked in the fire. 

"Thank you...I'm glad you asked!" Sam blushed at Frodo's words. "Because...having to be in this horrible land made me think. It made me think back. Back to the Shire...Old Bilbo...Merry, Pippin! Good old Gandalf....But if any of them had to be here, I'd have chosen you...and I'm glad you're here...You mean much to me. You're like a piece of my heart...of my love for the Shire and our old lazy days."

Sam winced with silent tears of joy. "That makes me so glad, sir! To tell the truth...I miss the Shire so much...and to be here with you, makes me comfortable. It's almost better than a good smoke of pipweed...which we haven't in a while...and I miss those days. We'll be back at wonderful Bag End soon! I know we will be!"

Frodo smiled, but Sam could tell that it was a faked one. Sam's own smile faded as Frodo turned around to catch some sleep.

"Sleep well, dear Sam!" "You also, Mr. Frodo..."

Sam listened to Frodo's breathing deep into the night. Ever since that day Gandalf had them set out for Rivendell, he knew well that he wouldn't be seeing his own home for quite a while. Frodo made him miss it more. He couldn't stand all these pained expressions Frodo made...and it made himself hurt more. What hurt him more...was the fact that he loved Frodo...and he was scared to show any sign. This feeling had longed inside him more and more since leaving the Shire. _This unbelieveable pain..._ he thought, _ it hurts my heart so much...because I have no way to let Mr. Frodo know...I'm aching so much...._ He silently wept.

Frodo then had turned in his sleep, facing Sam's direction. Sam wipes his sad eyes and smiled at his masters face. His face was like an angel. Frodo was _his_ angel...his own, who would be there for him. Samwise dreamt of Frodo with visible wings. Wings made of such a pure thing...like a flower. Wings made of flower petals, that is what Frodo was carried by. If he were to fly, he'd create such a garden, a rain of petals. _An impossible dream..._he thought.

Sam leaned over and watched Frodo dream. He wished that it could stay like that forever. But that cursed Ring...that ring which would possibly end their lives. That ring that made Frodo feel the way he did. Sam felt his eye twitch a bit. He turned his eyes toward the flames of the fire...and was reminded of Mount Doom. "Mount Doom..." he said silently. "That hellish castle of evil, of where the ring was born. I truly hate it!" He looked down at his sweet master sleeping. "Why did you come to him?!"

Just as Sam said that...Frodo moved his body so to reveal the ring. It glared at Sam, and he was being pulled forward. _This feeling...this trickery...I can't give into it! But...that ring...if I were to take it...and get rid of it, Frodo would be ok. I could even take it, and go myself, as to protect Frodo._ Sam tilted forward more...his hand slid from his side, to freely in the air...heading to Frodo's chest where the ring lay. Sam looked to the other side and closed his eyes as if he were in pain.

He lightly opened one eye onto Frodo, still reaching for the ring. _Frodo! Oh please, Mr. Frodo! Don't wake up!_ He quickly moved to snatch the ring but Frodo sat up in a jolt of fear, his eyes in tears.

"OH SAMWISE...! OH DEAR SAMWISE!..." he wrapped his arms around Sam's chest and cried into it. "Sam...this dream I had...I...."

He pulled away from his grasp onto Sam. "Sam...." Frodo's eyes were filled with uncontrollable tears. Sam saw such a look in his eyes...a look, like he was hoping for a sanctuary that would not come.

"Sam...I don't understand...why...?"

"Mr. Frodo! I can explain I..."

Frodo stood up and grabbed his cloak. "Sam...I can't stay with you...I can't let you full under this rings trickery. Don't you see?!"

"But Frodo! PLEASE MASTER! I need to protect you! I have to protect you! You cannot wander Mordor alone!" Sam ran to get his cloak and bags...

"SAM! I'm going! Don't follow me!"

Sam's eyes filled with tears and he yelled, "Why Frodo?! I don't want you to leave! Let me protect you..!"

"Sam...I love you too much. I can't let you die for me..." Frodo's eyes began to tear up...and found the only thing left to do was turn and run.

"Frodo...." Sam dropped to his knees. He was stunned...with the words _Sam....I love you too much_ running through his mind and heart.

Sam laid down on the ground and began to cry..."my sweet Frodo...."


	2. Rediscovery

aight, so I really actually started the second part of the fic. HOORAY FOR ME! cause it's been like 90590450934054905 years since I wrote the first chapter. anyway...yeahh I'm listening to Newfound Mass as I write this cause it inspires me with Frodo-Sam ness. download the song already. ^_^ you know you wanna.

ah, anyway...here's the second chapter...where Sam looks for Frodo. ^_^

----

Sam lifted his eyes...and found himself facing the sky. It was a very awkward morning for him. He wished he hadn't of woken up...seeing as he'd only have the first few seconds of the morning to forget all that had happened. He put his arms in the back of his head and rubbed his thumb along his neck. "I best be getting up," he yawned.

He pulled out pots and pans to prepare breakfast for _himself._ It was so strange, because the only reason he use to have for waking up was to help Frodo and make a nourishing meal for him. _I should of went back to sleep.._ he thought. Sam slapped his head and had the urge to yell to himself "You're an idiot, Samwise Gamgee! You forgot that you have nothing to make a meal out of! Only the lembas...now what will you do?" He was only relieved Frodo took them...because Frodo would need them more than Sam, who had no more reason to travel deep into Mordor.

Sam sat on a rock and put his face firmly in his hands. "Ah, Mr. Frodo...You don't understand...that knife you dug into me...it hurt more than even a Nazgul blade could. I wonder what you are thinking, or if you are ok or not." Sam let himself slide off the rock backwards, and he rested on the ground. The wind pushed against his hair and clothing...and it almost soothed his thinking, but the pain really _wouldn't_ go away. "Frodo, I left Hobbiton for you, you know. I know you wish just as much as me to be back home. I want to be back with my Gaffer, planting po-ta-toes...and enjoying tales and getting to smile. Instead, in exchange for leaving, I'm left here by my only reason to go on. I'm not very cut out for adventure, I never was...but everything I did was for you. I don't want it left in vein...and I'm hoping you haven't forgotten me..." Sam's memories came flowing again, with a mind of its own...as if it came back to push that knife in deeper.

_"Sam, I can't stay with you. I can't let you fall to the rings trickery, don't you see?"_

"But Frodo, please master, I need to protect you! I **have** to protect you! You cannot wander alone!"

"Sam, I'm going. Don't follow me!"

"Why Frodo, I don't want you to leave! I can protect you..."

"Sam, I love you too much. I cannot let you die for me..."

"Frodo..."

Sam remember Frodo's face burning with sorrow. Sam also remember how he himself felt...every word that came...seemed to have a deep impact on him. Almost a riddle. Did Frodo want him away? Maybe he was a thorn in his masters side. He shook he head with denile...it couldn't be true. Maybe he really didn't want him to get hurt? Sam was so confused..."It must be that, it has to be that."

"I even remember how I felt trying to grab that ring. It was a mix of wanting and hating..." Sam stood, and the breeze sent a chill up his back. He looked around the dead land, the wind getting his hair in the way...but he gave no mind. He thought of something, and he knew what to do. "It's a dangerous route Sam, are you sure you're up for it?" He nodded. 

He ran to his resting spot, and grabbed his pans. He shoved everything around him into his pack in a frenzy and rolled his sheets up. He tied his pans to his pack...but reluctantly picked up the last pan and stared at it. He grinned, remembering how much he loved to cook and please Frodo. "I think I'll hold onto this one."

He wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and hooked it with the symbol of the leaf Galadriel had given each fellowship member. He threw his pack around his arms and held a pan in his right hand. "Ready, Samwise?" He laughed stupidly at himself. He seemed to have had a new hope in things...all because of a pan. But also, because the memories didn't hurt so much anymore. He could think of many pleasent times with Frodo, add them together, and still imagine himself with him. He had come to the conclusion him and Frodo were meant to be...and he wouldn't stop until he knew Frodo also realized it.

----

*says like comic book guy on simpsons* Shortest chapter, ever. yes yes, I write short chapters...but they will get longer, I promise. ^_^ LOL ALSO, the "po-ta-toes" thing was from the "Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit" chapter in the Two Towers. I couldn't stop laughing at that part in the book, so I had him say it. ^_^ I also listened to the Inu-Yasha OST 1 CD while doing this...the music REALLY helped the mood. Like the part when the wind brushed up against him, the scene came into my mind from the music. ^_^_^_^__^ !! GO ROBOT FUU !!


	3. Stories' Beginning

okk, so Sam didnt look for Frodo in the last chapter. This one will most likely be as long as the last ;; seeing as I have to do a report. LOL, the strange this is that it was due today, but I made an excuse...so XD! ok anyway, Sam/Frodo are more important. Even tho I suck at writing ;_; I _don't_ compare to River Daughter. =\ she's the best, read her fics. ;.;

anyway, don't ask me where this story is going. *slaps back of head*

----

"Frodoooooooo! Master Frodoooooo!" Sam called out willingly. He never imagined himself in this sort of position. He never even imagined Frodo leaving him like that unexplain, and he had so many questions. He prayed and hoped deep in his heart he could find courage to tell his Frodo what it was he felt. How much Frodo meant to him, and how much Frodo brightened his days. Even the thought of Frodo's beautiful hair on a late afternoon, with the wind at his back...it sent an unknown feeling up from his feet and to his head. 

Sam bent down, and caustiously sat down on a log below him. He took out an old rag he had taken with him and wiped his hands and face. "I didn't even realize how late it was...and I haven't eaten. When I set out from Rivendell, I didn't think I'd survive with the little food we have...now I have nothing," Sam sighed at the content feeling food would make his poor hobbit stomach. 

At that point, the sound of disgruntled birds surrounded Sam. The fear shook in his heart and he held the handle of his sword as it lay in its sheath. The noise faded as if it were being chased, and Sam backed away, falling over the log. Shaking his head, he pulled himself back up. "That noise startled me enough...I only hope I find you soon, Frodo," Sam mumbled under his breath.

Sam began walking again among the poorly shaven dirt road...and behind the trees lurked a dark figure he failed to notice...

---------------------------------

Sam looked up through the trees and tried to find clouds in the sky. "Though this forest scares me, if I look beyond these trees, the Sun and clouds inspire me. The Sun, well, she seems to smile even through the bad. I wish I was able to shine like that. Maybe She has someone special in Her life? The clouds love to hug Her, and its almost like they've been friends forever. Just as me and Frodo. Frodo is the sun in my sky, and I wish I were the clouds there to hold him when a day is rough, or..ah, I am not very poetic...I really can only tell tales of gardens," he chuckled a bit.

"All this talk though, I wish Frodo could hear all I have to say. Maybe looking for him can be a brave adventure, like in a book, where I rescue him, and he praises me...and I tell him words I've longed to since the beginning of the book! " Sam blushed, and began to walk in a faster pace, as if his fantasy now powered his physical strength. He jumped up at random times and let the wind hold his weightless body. "Yes! That is what I will do...! I will write something for you Frodo...and it'll be a perferct ending to my first adventure...alone, at least." Sam smiled up at the sky, and knew he owed his thanks to it.

"I'm coming Mr. Frodo! You'll see your Samwise Gamgee too, and we'll be able to embrace again"

---------------------------------

"What's this?" he squinted at the ground. "Is this what I think it is?" he carefully brushed the ground with his hands. He gasped, "This is! This is Mr. Frodo's Lothlorien crest, from his cloak!" He looked around more, and he surprisingly saw a large bundle of things ahead. "Master Frodo!" he called, running towards the pile.

"Why is this here? What has happened to him?" he whispered, lifting up Frodo's cloak, examining it. It seemed to be stained with dirt and covered with tears, as if he had gone through a hardship before loosing it. "Mr. Frodo," Sam choked out hugging the cloak, "Why is it here like this? Oh Mr. Frodo..I hope you are ok!" He rubbed his face along the cloak, trying not to spill his tears on it. "Please don't let this be a sad ending..." he murmured. "Please, I ask of you," he yelled up to the sun. "I ask you give me strength, and courage! I have nothing...nothing to lean on, nor hope. I only have my plain hobbit sense, and a blinded heart..."

----

Yes, it ended strangely. O_o I'm an idiot. But I gotta work on that report...and anyway, I think this is a bad chapter ;_; I have writers block or something...I can't think of anything good to write. I reallllly hope people like it, or that it's getting better, or something. =\


	4. Embracing Darkness

ah! I'm beginning to seriously think that the Inu-Yasha OST 1 CD is the soul purpose of me wanting to write this fic. ^_^ these 6 certain tracks, they just really inspire me O.o; like, it makes me feel how Sam would feel in that position, in that scenary...everything. it's strange! Also the fact I don't think anyone knows what I have planned. XD OK BUT if you read this fic and you're getting sick of me talkin 'bout these BGMs, heres the ones: (on the OST 1 of Inu-Yasha)

22. Sango  
26. Unrest Feeling  
30. Kikyou (DEFINITELY this one)  
31. An Elegy  
32. End of Sorrow  
33. Kagome and Inu-Yasha  


those...especiallyyyyyyyy Kikyou...it reminds me of the mood for Sam when he first wakes up. Sorta like in that uh ep about Miroku...or uh, i forget, but Inu-Yasha is thinking of Kikyou and he is like "where are you, my Kikyou?" and that sad music is on...thats the music. it reminds you of something you've lost...=\ it's really sad ;.; but anyway...on with the story. (the crappy one by FuuH)

----

Sam wrapped Frodo's ruined cloak around his shoulders and felt it gently. _I'll hold onto this for you Master Frodo...Don't worry, I'll find you, or find who did this to you...._he thought. He really didn't have a clue of what happened, he just assumed someone attacked him. He didn't really know what to believe anymore...only believing in himself worked now. And even that didn't help enough.

"As my Gaffer says, _you shouldn't let the time you have go to waste, because it won't wait for you._" He shrugged and began walking up a smooth hill, that lead to a scene above a flat land. The wind played with the grass, making it dance in directions, causing pictures to form. Sam wondered if he'd find Frodo in that land...or if Frodo was even alive. "Well, you old ass," he said to himself. "Don't waste that time. I have some hope to lean on...and my weak heart says Frodo still lives."

So, as the hours went, Sam walked on sore feet, sometimes crawling from aching with hunger, and then limping there and then. He could swear he heard footsteps all around the grassy areas...if they were watching, he couldn't tell, but he tried to pretend it was all in his mind. The clouds still hung in the sky, still there from when the morning painted them...and slowly they moved.

It was then, just as Sam admired the picture in the sky, that the clouds turned on him and began to change into grey. They moved faster, and covered the Sun that was there to be a companion. Sam shivered and shut his eyes, hoping it'd end soon. But it didn't. It was as if everything was turing black, like a welcoming to some dark lord. The wind twisted and stabbed him with dead cold, and the darkness held him at every corner. He knelt to the ground, gripping for anything he could find.

"What is with this torture?" he yelled, lifting one eyelid to see if he could find something to grab hold of. The wind grew faster, trying to pull him and take him with them. It felt to him like the hand of some demon was grabbing to his shoulder and trying to take him.

"H-h-help.." he called low enough to be a whisper. He turned his head and saw it was like a transparent hand digging into his flesh, and he could almost see a grin in the air. He shut his eyes and screamed in pain, "Master Frodo!" He shook his head violently and fell completely to the ground. "Master...are you alright?" he called out.

He opened his eyes and realized Frodo was not there, and could never be there. "Why?" he said below his own voice, in a drowning sorrow. "Why is this all happening? This pain won't leave my side, in this never-ending darkness...and I still have not found my beloved Frodo." He twitched with tears and finally screamed, and turning around, he tried to push his hand through the darkness. Nothing seemed to happen. He gripped his shoulder, and tried to pull out the unknown hand that clawed at him so.

He almost gave up, until when the moment came, a small shadowed figure came and cut through the strong winds. Sam couldn't make out who or what it was, but he gasped when he was able to notice the figures facial features. "Mr. Frodo?" he called out, jumping from the ground where he cowered. The clouds still covered the mid-day land for Sam to see. "Mr. Frodo...?" he answered a bit softly. 

"Master, it's me...Samwise. Samwise Gamgee. You remember your Sam, don't you?"

The figure wouldn't answer.

Sam's eye twitched a bit, from neither sadness nor anger. "Now look here," he growled. "Who are you, if you are not Master Frodo?" _Why are you acting like that, Frodo?_ he wondered. _And why am I like this?..._

The shadow turned, and began to run back down the plain.

"Wait...wait a second!" cried Sam. He dropped his bag and began to chase the figure.

He gasped heavily, trying to catch his breath. He wasn't very physical, and for him to catch up to the stranger was impossible. It made Sam unsure if it was Frodo or not, because of the speed the stranger possessed. He also wondered if this new being was against or with him, or just saving him. 

Finally, the figure began to slow down, just before the entrance to a deep wood. Sam caught up about a half a minute later, bending and wheezing. He fell to the floor, landing on his knees and hands, and begged, "Please, unknown Sir, I wish to speak to you."

Sam glared at the figure a bit, finally getting a real look, though the dark clouds still covered the day. Moments later the figure replied, "Master Gamgee, you may speak as you like." Sam was astonished at the voice this man possessed. It was neither deep nor high, not pure nor evil. It was...nothing. "Well...I," he said wearily, sitting back up right. "I want to know what happened back there."

The man made no movement, and it surprised Sam how he didn't turn around once. Actually, it was rather rude. "It was a demon. A new devilry, one I'm sure you have never heard of. Actually, one of the many. It travels by dark winds. Dark winds that come often in Mordor." Sam put his hand to his chin and thought. _His voice isn't very familiar. I don't think it's Frodo..._But he wasn't sure for a fact.

"I see..." mumbled Sam. 

"I do not think you do," replied the stranger.

"And why would you be rude enough to say such a thing? I give you my deepest thanks for saving me from that wretched, demon as you say, but I do have a right to know who you are and why you would save me." Sam felt very rude as of up to then. He didn't feel like taking anything from anyone at all, because Frodo was on his mind...and Frodo was what he wanted.

"I am someone you have most needed for a while now," the voice seemed to have changed.

"Ohh, and really?" Sam said cluelessly, in an irritated tone. "Kind stranger, you don't know what I've been through as of up to now. I've been looking for something very important to me, and close to my heart. And I feel it's all my fault. I've had to endure much up til now...and you're the first I've met along the way. I wouldn't mind if you _beared_ with me."

The stranger looked as though it had been hit in the head with a rock. He stood there for a while, hands at side, head bent into thinking.

_This riddle has become more challenging...My slow Gaffer mind would never solve it in time's giving._ Sam sighed. Finally, the figure had gave the notion to turn.

Sam gave a low gasp. The stranger turned so that the angle of his face would only show Sam his cheeks. Sam felt like he had been beaten with a rake when he saw the pure white of the stranger's cheeks, and his brown hair. It was all he could see of him. Nothing else...not even his eyes.

"You...you...you remind me of someone..." Sam finally allowed himself to say. "Someone I dearly love..."

"Samwise Gamgee," the stranger whispered. "I hate you _and_ I love you..."

The unknown man, turned and ran into the tangled forest. Sam sat there on the hard ground, stunned. His eyes twitched with a bitter sadness, and he realized what had happened. He wouldn't be able to follow the 'stranger' now...nor think of him...for his heart was now more blinded than before. 

As Sam realized this, drums rang in the sky, lightning clashed, and rain began to fall...


	5. Cry For Me

when you're lonely, when you're hurting  
don't face your sorrow alone.  
know that I'll always  
be there with you, without fail.

----

The beat of the rain set a broken melody, a melody that eased Frodo's parched body, and withered away his already ruined heart. It felt like years had passed by, that yesteryear had already come and gone. He wouldn't accept the fact it had only been a few days ago he refused Sam, and that he had to leave his pained expressions. He wanted to be there to ease them, and to hold him. 

Frodo shivered and held himself, letting the rain cover him. Sam...everytime he thought of him, his heart would twitch in agony. It was like something controlled his body...something controlled his thoughts...his heart...his soul. 

"Sam," he tried to smile through his pain, "I don't know what's happening...but I've felt this way for a while..." Frodo could remember all that he felt before that night...He had been feeling very lonesome, as if the burden had grown stronger. It pulled him down in both strength and confidence...and he felt lower than the fall off Khazad-Dûm. 

He felt like something was taking his life away. Like something had come to get him. It burned in the bottom of his heart...and then it happened, he had a dream. He didn't _want_ to remember it...but it came back to him, flowing like the river that now came from his eyes. 

_He was walking through a beautiful patch of woodland, humming so that the birds could hum along, and just admiring summertime's warmth. The sun basted the trees with it's afternoon smile. Frodo wanted to jump in with the trees and smile back, until a a great darkness surrounded him. Death was hugging him, and he pleaded that it wasn't his end. Two great figures stood above him, towering him with their evil grins and their black eyes._

"Help me! Help!" he yelled, but as he did, one of the tall figures closed in on him, and wrapped there arms like claws around Frodo's weak body. Frodo screamed, then realizing he was being craddled by Sam.

"Master Frodo..." he said stroking Frodo's hair. "Are you alright?"

Frodo shook with fear and pushed furiously away from Sam.

"Frodo, what's wrong? Why do you push away from your Sam...?"

Frodo stared at him as though he were a complete stranger. His whole body trembled and his eyes were twitching with fear. He snapped his eyes shut, he was yelling at himself inside, screaming 'What is wrong with you Frodo! You even cower from a hobbit as sweet as Sam.' Another voice seemed to talk back in his other, whispering 'And what does that mean? You stupid git, you don't even see it!' 

"See what?" Frodo shouted aloud. Sam shook and leaned back further from Frodo.

"Mr...Mr. Frodo...?" Sam reached his hand out to Frodo.

Frodo shook, and curled down, holding his head. Sam gently placed his hand on the waves of brown Frodo posessed. Frodo looked up from cowering...and stared into Sam's eyes...cotemplating his companion's intentions.

Deep down he felt stupid for being suspicious. But a voice spoke again...screaming now more than before, 'Don't trust him! Don't even try!'

"No!" Frodo screamed, pushing Sam away, and throwing himself against the wall. He heard more screaming, and the laughter that overwhelmed him...and forced tears in his eyes. the devilry would not stop. He knew he could trust Sam...but then, why?

Sam came rushing to Frodo...trying to pull his hands from his head, but he resisted. "Master! Master Frodo! Snap out of it! It's me..your Sam!"

Frodo dropped his screams, and looked at Sam again. Sam smiled at him, feeling as though he got through to him. Frodo gave way, falling into Sam's prepared arms.

'Idiot!' a voice whispered in his one ear. 'You KNOW what he'll do. You KNOW it.'

"I don't know!" he yelled. He shook more in Sam's arms...forgetting the rare position he was in. Sam still couldn't tell what Frodo's problem was. He had no clue what to do. Frodo shook like a wet kitten, lost and confused, and unaware of who cared for him or not. Sam felt like he had only one option, and staring at his scared shaking eyes, kissed above his brow, and whiped his tears.

Frodo jumped back, and became calm, though still surprised by Sam's action. Sam came forward to Frodo, and whispered, "Are you alright now, sir? What was wrong with you?" Sam still felt uncomfortable about Frodo looking at him like a stranger. He reached out, notioning to place his hand on Frodo's chest. Frodo screamed and plunged forward, scratching Sam and ripping his garments.

Sam pushed Frodo away...and began to hold his wrist to the ground. Frodo stared at him, and felt more insecure by his flaring eyes. Sam lifted his hand, and slapped Frodo across the face. They both fell silent.

Frodo held to the ring that slept on his chain. He gripped it like it was his only friend. He knew there was more to the dream...but he only remembered then. He remembered Sam's unreal kiss on his brow. Frodo almost felt enlightened at the thought...until he then again realized he was in a land of doom.

"I can't forgive myself..." He hit the ground, digging his fingers deep into the soil. His tears watered the earth...and he wrapped his face in his arms. "I never _will_ forgive myself..." 


	6. Reflections

no matter how much it hurts  
I won't forget your smile  
I will search for the tomorrow  
when we can meet again…

----

Frodo awoke the next morning. He felt refreshed, bathing in the morning dew, and listening to the birdsong. He sat up and felt his head, trying to remember what had all happened. "I think I remember," he began to grin madly. "I faintly remember being safe in my own Bag End...I almost remember being put into bed and cared for."

He got up and called, "Bilbo! Bilbo, where are you? Are you outside already, writing your book?" Frodo looked wildly around, almost smiling like it was hide and seek. He danced side to side, almost drunkenly. If you looked into his eyes, you wouldn't be able to see Frodo anymore...or the colors that naturally bloomed in his eyes.

"I see," he called out. "You're off with Gandalf again! That is ok though...I hope you're journey is full of great wealth and luck! For now, I'll go see my dear Sam."

Frodo wadled, hitting almost every tree, sometimes dragging his own body. Randomly he'd lift himself back up and grin again. "I see the old Gaffer's house already!" he cried, running forward to a giant tree. The tree had a face carved by nature, a face that made it look like it had fangs and an unwelcomed personality. It's branches hung about like it was meant to be there for scaring. Frodo wrapped his arms about it tightly and cried, "Oh Samwise Gamgee, dearest of hobbits, and fairest gardener, how have you been? I've longed to know!"

Frodo smiled again, laughing in a way as though he realized the game Sam was playing. "I know what it is, old fellow! You shouldn't be frightened! It's me, Frodo, your dearest Frodo Baggins," he winked his eye, almost like he didn't mean to. In Frodo's mind, he saw and felt Sam, and couldn't even see it was a tree in a land full of despair.

"Samwise," he whispered. "I need to tell you something that I longed to have expressed way back." He could of sworn he saw Samwise turn his head at him and his expression full of concern and undivided attention. Frodo held Sam tighter, and mumbled, "Sam, I think of you, and I see you, when I don't even plan on it. My heart ties my mind to my feet, and so, when I think you, I fall. How long I have waited to say this...and now I can; I love you."

Frodo shut his eyes tight, waiting for a response. The response never came. Frodo opened his eyes slowly, and saw he was holding the tree so tight, he face rubbed against the bark.

He stood there silently. His reaction was an unexpected one, as he began to scream. Pulling out his sword, without thinking, he began stabbing the tree furiously. He stabbed until he fell to the ground, and he stabbed the tree once more, digging in as deep as his pain went. He leaned against the handle of Sting, and looked down at the ground, his tears joining the dew.

"Damn you," he pulled out of his heart. "Damn it to where all hellish things belong!"

Frodo felt like he already was in hell. He lead his hand into his shirt, and ripped the chain from his neck. He didn't stare long enough at the ring, and without thinking, he threw it against the tree. It bounced, and landed harmlessly onto the soft ground. 

He bent down, and picked it up. He stared again, trying to recall why it was he threw it. He held the ring to his heart and looked about. "I still have no clue which way to go," he mumbled. He shooked his head and began walking forward, for it was the only way he knew anymore. He put the ring in his breast pocket, ensuring it wouldn't get lost again.

He walked through the forest, reaching a marsh like area...where the trees laid to the side, some against each other, and some trees that had fallen from natural causes. It seemed to Frodo like there was no hope anywhere, that hope was hopeless...that right or wrong was only a flip of a coin. He was neither right or wrong, for the matter. It seemed to him it was right to leave Sam, to know he would be safe. But it was wrong to leave him, too. What if Sam was hurt? What if Sam had died, trying to find his way back to the Shire? Frodo _knew_ Sam wouldn't go back to the Shire, even if he did know the way.

Frodo almost laughed, thinking how silly it'd be for Sam to try climbing up rocks by himself. For some reason, it was funny to him. Maybe because it was Sam...and Sam was always the one to make Frodo laugh in an unexpected place or at an unexpected time. He wished to have Sam next to him, Sam's arm on his shoulder, Sam supporting Frodo as he walked. Sam supporting him as he beared this burden.

Frodo even tried to imagine what it'd be like to climb down a rocky slope without Sam's rope from Galadriel.

He shook his head though...remembering why he left Sam in the first place. He felt almost certain Sam could survive. With all he had...he had his own survival skills. Why, Sam even had his pans for defense, and his garderning skills for...well, Frodo couldn't really wonder what gardening skills would do to help in the wild. Possibly help him find certain herbs, or flowers to brighten his day.

Frodo decided to rest on a group of rocks that had been on top of a hill outside the forest he was in. He couldn't even remember _why_ he was in that forest in the first place, or how he even got there. It really didn't matter to him then, because he had been walking several hours and decided he needed a quick rest. He dug through his pack, and found the lembas the fair elves of Lothlorien gave the fellowship in their beautiful leaf wrappings. Frodo almost reluctantly opened the pack, because the package was too beautifully presented, but finally found the heart to and began to nibble slowly.

He felt refreshed. He had no water to help his thirst, but the lembas were good enough. He well enough knew he'd last another day or so.

Frodo, taking the last few bites of his lemba, smiled contently. He chuckled to himself remembering how Sam would talk about wishing for a real Shire meal. The first two breakfasts, and the tea, and the snacks, and dinners and feasts. Even Frodo missed them.

He sighed though, and leaned against the rock, and nodded off into sleep. If he had any dreams, he couldn't remember...but he could faintly recall his dream being about back at Bag End, smoking pipeweed, and watching the fire. The best dream he had had for days...

Aftering awakening, he walked on for about 4 or more leagues, and finally slowed down to a nearby stream. He bent down and washed his face with the first fresh water he had felt in weeks. He almost gasped with the pleasure of fresh water...and he filled his empty bottle to the top, overflowing. 

He noticed something though, something in the water. He turned back and looked...and he saw a reflection. His own.

"That is me...isn't it." he sighed. "I had almost forgotten how I looked," he sighed again. "Almost changed..." he whispered. He looked at his reflection for a good amount of minutes, and just as he decided to turn back to what it was he was doing, the reflection changed on him. 

"S...Sam," he called out. He reached his finger out and tried to touch his face, but the reflection moved as if Sam were living inside the stream. "Sam...what does this all mean?" Frodo felt almost stupid for asking, as he realized already the answer. "Sam," he choked out. "You mean to tell me..."

Sam smiled at him.

Frodo felt overcomed with sadness and the longing to hold him. He opened out his arms arms, and leaning forward, tried to hug the reflection.

The cold of the stream felt up Frodo's spine and he shivered. He swam back up and grabbed hold the muddy ground. He didn't try to pull himself up, he just laid there in thought. His arms held the ground, and he wished he were in the arms of Sam's warmth. Frodo had been regretting what he did. He wished he could go back. But he'd never find Sam now...

"I'm so confused," he cried. "I feel so horrible. I feel like my soul has been turning on me. Something has been grabbing my heart and turning it in all directions. It's telling me I've left something behind."

"I'm beginning to believe I hate myself. I hate myself, without Sam. But I still don't understand! If I go back to him, I will only leave again. I'm being toyed with!" He winced, and pulled himself out of the stream. He wanted to cry again, but he believed he had to put aside weaknesses in his heart.

He went to his bag, and looked for his cloak. "That's right...I've lost it. I almost forgot. I don't care if I get sick anymore...I just...I don't even know what it is I want!" He kicked the ground and looked up at the towering trees. He heard birds talk amongst themselves. He felt like they were saying, "Look at that poor halfling, he's crazy! He's lost it all, and he'll most likely loose all hope."

"I've already lost hope!" he yelled at the birds. "Don't you see? I almost rather not destroy the ring, so you may go through hell!"

The birds flew away, without a care for what Frodo said. "What am I saying..." he mumbled. "This isn't like me..."

"I'm going to find Sam," he said to himself. "I can't go on like this anymore. He doesn't even have any food, the poor lad."

"I'm going to find Samwise Gamgee, and I'll tell him how I feel, and what I've been through. I want to prove to him, and also explain to him why I left."

Frodo took out a spare blanket, and wrapped it around his shoulders. He still felt a knife turning in his heart, and the ring pushing him back, but he avoided the pain with what he could. "No, I won't listen to either," he whispered.

"What hurts you only makes you stronger," he said, in the spirit of Sam. 


	7. Wounded Lullaby

But a little bit, today, a little bit,  
I feel like a lost kitten.  
If you approach me with kindness,  
I can't help but follow you. Meow  


----

"This hellish land," Frodo mumbled. "First it pierces you, then it freezes you!"

Dropping his weapons and bag, he laid himself against a tree trunk and held his head up to get air. He couldn't feel any foul air anymore...everything to him lately was foul, and he seemed to adapt to it quite nicely. All of the long day had he been searching for Sam, or some sign of Sam. He could barely remember Sam's appearence as it was. It almost felt like he was losing it all, slipping away, forgetting everything that mattered to him. 

Frodo closed his eyes and hung his head to his right. He couldn't help but fall into a deep abyss of dreams. At least, in dreams nothing could hurt him.

The Moon beamed down on Frodo, craddling him in Her arms, humming a soundless lullaby. The lullaby was singing to him in his mind...singing to him about the Grey Havens, and about being back home, and singing a tale of his adventure. It sung to him about Sam's will to go on with him to Mount Doom. 

_Star hung from moon to moon,  
smiling, dressed in undying gold.  
A chant, a quiver; don't worry I'm near.  
And forever our paths will unfold._

Frodo sat up and looked about. That voice...it wasn't in his mind. Out of all the fear that gathered up inside him, he was comforted. He leaned against the tree once more and clasped his eyes shut. 

_Cold blades, piercing and turning an  
eternity in flames...  
Your courage and sword,  
adorned with blue waves.  
_

Frodo curled down to the ground, enchanted by the whispers in the dark that surrounded him. The tempo of the song stuck to his thoughts, and there tucked him into a deep sleep. The tune danced in his dreams and painted everything in a dim scene. It felt like shades curved and twirled about and tried to attract him. The dark pursued him and he fell forward. He felt air brush against his hair, and brushed his skin. He felt the shapes dance about him and at some points he thought he had made contact with them. It stung him and bruised him, making him sore. Frodo reached his hand out, trying to grab hold of anything he could, trying to save himself from the rocky floor he had predicted would be at the bottom. If there was even a bottom.

"What is going on?" he yelled. "Why do I feel as if I'm really falling, when this is all a dream?"

He opened his eyes to the rock and grass that passed before him. It was a race to the bottom, and he was so far winning.Frodo furiously waved his arms and tried to grab hold of anything. He dug his nails into the dirt and held tightly onto a weak root hanging out, and unfortunately he was still more than a league from the bottom. He could drop, dangerously attempt to climb back up, or stay there.

Frodo whimpered a bit, trying to stop thinking of his soon to be death. His shoulder twitched, and he wanted to feel the wound that he had gotten, but he was paralyzed and wouldn't dare move. How did he fall in the first place? Or the bruise? "Dancing figures," he mumbled. His clothes were torn, and it cried in blood. Frodo winced in pain, and his palms sweat, making holding onto the root more difficult.

"Damn it all!" he shut his eyes and let go. The rush flew from his feet to heart, and he shuddered. He closed his eyes and gripped his shoulder tightly, shielding it. The dim shapes of rocks and bushes became clearer through the rising mists of morning. Frodo's body hit hard through the tangled edges of branches and leaves. Dust aroused and claimed Frodo's motionless body.

Frodo's arms streched away from his body and his legs shook in different directions. He couldn't lift his sore body, or even think through all the pain he fell into it. He wanted to sleep more, but then where would he end up next?

_I wonder how it was I ended up here, what had happened, who had done it. It's all so confusing,_ he squinted at the ground with recoil._I remember leaving Sam, and waking up on a fresh new day, on a completely unknown plain...and how I got there, I didn't know. And now, I'm hear in so much pain on a cold ground...and there isn't any sign telling me why._

Frodo recalled the soothing voice of the lullaby...and the words she sung. The words had a very strange meaning to them, of which he could relate. He rejected it all though, in his mind. He was imagining things, or the land really was evil. Some devilry, if anything. How could he ignore it though? The proof was him there on the ground wounded. Frodo's heart sank, feelings pouring like endless rain. It was one of those rainy days where nothing was right...where it poured so hard it hurt, and you couldn't even understand it's beat.

Frodo felt the ground vibrate though, and through his poor angle on the ground, he saw someone walking out from the misty aurora. The body's structure was so familiar to Frodo, he longed to cry out to the unknown person walking further for help. Hopefully they'd come by his way...but he was still afraid this person might not be trustworthy.

Soon enough...the figure came clear before Frodo. He gasped with whatever strength he had and the most joyous of feeling embraced his heart, and he felt reunited with his old self. 

"Mr. Frodo?!" Sam shouted, half near tears and leaning down to help Frodo up. "Master Frodo, what has happened to you? My poor poor Mr. Frodo!" He sat Frodo up right gently and let him rest in his arms. "Your shoulder...it's caked in blood and colored blue...and you're so swollen."

Frodo shook, and hesitantly lifted his hand to Sam's cheek. "Samwise, this isn't a dream I hope..."

"Not at all Sir..."

Frodo's eyes teared up, and he said in a weak voice, "I'm so glad you came...I don't know why I ended up here...but I had been looking for you. And now I've found you...and I never wanted to part with you."

"Now, now...Don't talk so much Mr. Frodo...You're beaten, and I don't wish to see you waste you're last ounce of strength on me."

Frodo didn't reply. He was too involved examining the depths of Sam's eyes, for they didn't look right. They were't the eyes he knew. If anything, it almost didn't feel like Sam at all. He was called out of his reverie by Sam shaking him a bit again. "Master Frodo?"

Frodo didn't reply again, he just laid there. Sam or not, he was in the arms of something other than the cold hard ground. Maybe Frodo didn't think it was Sam because of all the discontent he had had for a while. He was so tired and weak, he would even accept a normal bed from even Sauron himself. But instead, he had longed to be supported by his companion. And here he was, still feeling discontent.

"Mr. Frodo? What's wrong? Am I doing anything?"

Frodo shook his head slowly and smiled, "Not at all! It's just..." Frodo wasn't about to say how he felt Sam wasn't Sam. "I just haven't seen you in so long, and the way I left...I would of thought meeting up again would be different..."

Sam blinked in confusion. Frodo had then realized Sam had no idea what he meant...and maybe didn't even remember how he left in such haste. Frodo made the decision that he had to be cautious. His thoughts trailed off though, when Sam began to hug him.

Frodo without much of an effort, hugged back. Sam didn't smile much, but did continue to speak. "You know Frodo...you've been acting very weird." His dialect changed and it wasn't the gardener he knew. "Do you really not trust me?"

Frodo glared at him and replied, "What're you saying?"

"No no, mustn't get mad!" Sam pushed Frodo away forcefully, and stood up.

Frodo coughed from the dust that flew when he fell. "What is wrong with you?!"

Frodo lowered his yell, and stared at Sam's changed face. It was so cruel, it brought tears to his eyes. Sam's eyes were no longer it's shining brown, but black. Blacker than any night, blacker than the depths of Middle-Earth, blacker than trickery the ring posessed.

Sam walked slowly towards Frodo and kicked his fragile body. Frodo screamed and grabbed hold the ground, wishing none of this had happened. He screamed again, and again, as Sam gave no sign as wanting to stop. Frodo cried and turned, and pleaded, as he had no hope of getting away, let alone even move. 

"Lowly hobbit," Sam mumbled to himself. Frodo couldn't believe Sam's words. He felt like he would never be able to stand again, and that his doom was here, in the most unexpected place. When he left Sam, did he really leave this much pain for Sam to express? Yet...Sam seemed to not remember anything about him leaving. This Sam.

Frodo began to push himself up, trying to lift his small weight with his bleeding arms. It was a horrible torture, that came right after another. And it all began with a lullaby...

"And why are you even trying to get up? Will you run? Defend yourself?" Sam laughed and kicked Frodo back down.

Frodo wiped the blood from his nose and tried again. Sam looked at Frodo in disgust, kicking him twice as hard. But it didn't stop Frodo from rising again, and again. His tears didn't matter anymore, nor his aching heart. He paid no heed to the blood that gather under him, or his torn clothes, but only to bring himself back, and try to be Frodo again.

"You're an idiot! A coward! You might as well die here! I almost wish I'd give you pity," he said scornfully, pushing Frodo with his bare foot. "If you die, at least I can take that ring from you. I don't think you'll ever need it again anyway." He grinned. 

Frodo looked up at him in hateful, tears. He felt something surge through his body so suddenly, a rush of hurt and smote pride. He stood before Sam with hands at sides, stained with blood and tears, clothes swaying with the dust sailing in the wind. Sam saw Frodo stand with wounds not effecting him. Almost like a matured light bounced off him. 

Sam paid no attention to Frodo's attempt to talk. "Stupid Mr. Frodo!" he yelled. "You left me before!" He cried. "You left me, when that was the one thing I wished for last! As if you did not care how you're dear Sam felt!" Sam voice's altered, as if something was controlling him as he tried to let his heart pour out.

Frodo dropped to his knees and stared at Sam in awe. He shook his head and cried out, "Sam, why..." he reached out his hand but Sam only slapped it away. 

"Samwise!" he yelled furiously. "Samwise Gamgee! I left you to protect you! Because I love you! Don't you understand?" Frodo felt so desperate and confused, before thinking, he had slipped himself into the arms of Sam. 

Frodo felt content for a total of 3 seconds, and Sam screamed in such a rage, that it seemed too unreal. Frodo looked at Sam through frightened eyes as his eyes turned red and scratched at Frodo, and pushed him away madly. Frodo felt pains strike across his chest as he laid on the cold ground once again, thinking of his old Sam. "Samwise..." he mumbled, as Samwise continuedly stabbed at him without second thoughts. Sam scratched and cried until his body was consumed by some unknown dark creature, shapeless and red-eyed. In a clash of thunder, the horrid thing that invaded Frodo's mind had come and gone, and left Frodo behind in undying pain.

Frodo laid lifeless on the ground, eyes unsteady, and fingers twitching. The unwelcoming wind pushed him about, and he cried to himself, "Where are you, my Samwise?" The rest became forgotten in a lonely lullaby...and in Frodo's heart, he forbidded it to be remembered. 


	8. Keep Breathing

the dark night sky separates us  
to lay bare our hearts as they call out to each other.  
cast off your trappings. some things can only be seen  
when you've lost everything.

----

The grass greeted Sam, as he gently awoke from a long dance of sleep. Flakes of memories surpassed his great loneliness and will to forget the last few days, and they landed with great caution. Wearily, Sam sat up and held his head, contemplating whether to get up, or rest longer. A melody of joyless dismal ran through his head, and as if it brought back a triste thought.

Sam stood up disheartenly. The sky shook with an oppressive embrace of clouds, that were colored a scorned evil. "No," he warned himself. "Mustn't get discouraged. Must move on, in whatever path I trust." Sam still felt bleak, and that hope was dying on him, even when he hadn't expected it. He had thought he would always be that optimistic hobbit. The hobbit who looked only for colorful things. "I ought to get in touch with myself lately...seems I've been changing on me." Sam sighed, wondering if he would even make plain sense anymore.

"Now, if only I could remember why it is I ended up here," he squinted about at the distant mountains and trees that bordered the plain. Last time he was awake, he was travelling very fast, through gathered rocks and trees. The position of the trees made it look as though a ruined village had once dwelled there, one made of keen stone. The Sun's last hours had been painting the sky smoothly with Her red hands, reaching to pull the Moon up in place. He decided to rest amoung the rocks for the night, and sleep as much as possible, and trying to forget all about food.

"That's right," he mumbled. "I fell asleep around that area...and I ended up here."

Sam reached to his pocket, wanting somewhere for them to call home. His fingers lingered slowly though; his trousers had a strange texture to them. They felt covered in a scattered substance. He pulled his hand from his side, and lo! for his hands were covered in not just earthly dust, but of shedded blood. Blood other than his own. His hand shook, leaving his arm to, and so forth his body. He wiped the dust on his shirt, trying to get a better look at the blood stained hands. "Mustn't yell in horror," he stammered.

He began to run, to look for any to wash his hands under. His body waded, he couldn't stand the way he ran. The blood ran dry against his tense hand, but he could feel it hugging his skin. He wanted the blood off; he felt almost deserving to be dead himself. What if he had killed a man? All these strange tidings, who knows what he could of commited.

Stranger stories ran through his mind, and he was scared people would begin rumours. Such as "Oh that Samwise, he use to be an alright lad. Until he turned into such a blood-ringing hobbit. Nasty little one he is, too. Always thought he was a harmless Gaffer, meaning to do no wrong. Now look at him; possibly that Frodo got him into it? Never trusted that fellow, either."

Sam shut his eyes, trying to ignore his mind. He couldn't ignore himself anymore. He certainly was changing on himself. Such times, bringing such horrible memories to come with it. He didn't want to dream anymore. "Such an ass, I am. I refuse to sleep now. I will do without."

His heart ached with longing for Frodo. Everything reminded him of his Master. The fields, the distant mountains, the wind hugging him from behind. Colors rang by Sam's side, as he ran amoungst the morning mists, and the awakening Sun. His heart reluctantly pushed him back, slowing him to be able to appreciate the rare life about him. _No time to greet the mornin'..._ His eyes met with a snowy haze, one of which almost lightened his heart lest he remembered why it was he looked for a stream in the first place. He reached his hands out, wearily, wanting more than anything to drench the blood that caked his poor hands. Tenderly, he knelt down, stroking his hands under the clear flow of water. The reflections of the Sun sailed down the river repeatedly, cheerful as usual.

Overwhelmingly, Sam winced at the blood that took over the clear shining of the water. It turned everything dark, as if it were Mordor. "What happened to always being happy, Sam?" he wanted someone to ask. "Now, it seems you are leaning on anything that will lead you to happiness. Where has all in your life gone?"

Frodo crossed his mind. All that was meaningful to Sam was taken with Frodo. All that made him happy. As Sam would never know Frodo felt so low around Sam, for not having the cheerfulness he did. For having that meaningful appreciation for life. Life was very meaningful to Sam. It meant everything. Getting up in the morning, growing colors from the soil of Hobbiton, walks and singing along with the birds. Going with his master of a quest that would most certainly mean never coming back. Meaning, he'd never enjoy those things again.

He longed to sing with the birds once more. Most birds around the region weren't to be trusted.

"Wonder how all are doing back in Hobbiton, anyway. Hopefully all is the same. Hopefully they are all fine without me. Would it matter, at the least?"

Alas, he could never live without _them._ Without his dear fellow hobbits. Meriadoc, Peregrin, Bilbo, his Gaffer, and of course, his beloved Frodo. He scratched his head, almost grinning. What would all of those hobbits think of his feelings? They would tell him that they thought his only desire was being back home, safe with a hearty meal, a pipe, and a garden to dirty his hands in. That wasn't his life anymore. If in any case, Frodo was what he turned to with a broken heart. Though he never right out came to say it; he'd show Frodo his love through companionship. The only regret was, was that all Frodo got from Sam's intentions?

It was all too true, that Frodo probably did not love Samwise back. That he looked upon Sam as a true friend only. Not that that was a bad thing. Oh indeed no! It was a high honor for Sam; better than a year's worth of mushrooms. And it takes much to be better than that.

He wondered how much his feelings with Frodo were interfering with the whole quest. He had most likely delayed all chances as of now. Proving how much of a git he was. 

_Oh Sam!_ Frodo's laughing expression cried._ You mustn't put yourself down the way you do. Such an admirable hobbit. Such a wonderful hobbit. There is no need to feel the way you do; you are valuable in your own way. In a way that is valuable to myself, as well._

Sam recalled those words perfectly. Frodo's reassuring advice had made his heart feel more supported that day. Sam had fallen over, tripping over a tree limb, and items flew from his bag and scattered everywhere. His position left him in a pile of food utencils and cloths. He remembered looking up at Frodo's almost crying laugh. He felt like a comic relief. But enough to make Frodo smile the way he did. That smile had stayed with him to this day.

He didn't forget either, how he explained to Frodo how he thought of himself at times. That's when Frodo knew exactly what to say. What to make Sam move on, even days from that day, and so on.

"Oh Master Frodo," his voice rang in a wounded tone. He dug his face into his hands, mists of tears blending with the mists of morning. Frodo was the millions of worlds that lay into Sam's mind. Each had such a story to tell. He wanted to be able to create adventures with Frodo, almost like Bilbo did with the dwarves and Gandalf. But this adventure was the complete opposite. They were not searching for a dragon and riches. They were searching for the future, along with death.

Was a very unwanted death. Was a death created by fate. Suddenly death had caught the interest of the gardener, he thought, "Why be afraid of death? No sense in living. I will be unneeded as it is...People won't accept me anymore. People won't want me. Frodo doesn't." His eyes flooded, creating a stream of his own. The tears slid down his face, creating a delta by the edge of his lips. He slid from the seat he had taken, and let himself be cleansed in the stream beside him. A world of black had taken him. 

Hopefully even death, if Sam was lucky.

Bubbles caressed his face. They popped like dreams, the blast of air being released had pushed back his hair. His hair floated along the rough top of the stream, floating in all directions. Rain set a pattern against the long wide stream. Rain hit against the back of neck, sending chills up his body.

Sam lifted his eyes gently. The water scratched his eyes and nose. Far away in the abyss of water, he could of saw Frodo's face. Smiling, almost in a saddened way. The eyes of his face had been glazed with a barrier of tears, unable to release. It floated like the sea. And in that sea, Sam saw a longing that could not be described. Something that had dwelled, but never breathed air from above. Had it decided to show itself, finally?

Sam gaped his mouth, expecting fresh air to purify him. His heart skipped, and he coughed, remembering he had been in water. He came up, gasping for the air he needed. His mind still lay at the bottom of the stream, even as he floated above. He almost wished Frodo had been waiting above the stream for his Sam to return. If he were to be long, he could always of had the aid from Frodo of receiving air.

His face was flushed with red, as he always did spend much of his time fantasizing possible moments with Frodo. Moments that would involved them being in love. Sam hadn't for days, and it had recently became a daily task. 

"I'm too afraid," Sam scolded himself. "I need to be more open. I cannot linger the way I do. Oh there I go again! I need to promise myself something; to stop making choices that I will not try on. Whatever I decide, my mind will be set. I will search for a way to achieve it." He dried his tears, gratefully. Samwise Gamgee, would begin anew lest to find Frodo first.

Soothing melodies crossed Sam's mind. He tried singing to himself as he walked a desperate path. Hours after hours came by, and a Sunset kissed him goodbye. Bidding him luck. He accepted what it was the flaming death of the day had given him. He had wasted the best of his day walking on, with one ambition. His legs burned, and his heart pulled onto him, as if trying to climb out. "I can last. I surely will, Master Frodo." The sky burned with a madness that only Sam's melancholy soul could understand. It brought out the worst in his memories of Frodo.

"No, no, no Sam! Don't be discouraged! What hurts you, only makes you stronger." His heart bled as though it had been tangled in the roses of his recent garden. That garden was a very healthy one. One of his favorite. He remembered plotting all of it, each flower planted after some conversation with his Mr. Frodo.

Sam held his torn heart. He craddled it in his arms. "Mr. Frodo, you pull me unto further limits. I wouldn't be going this far for just anyone, but you. Someday your shining face will help me plant another garden. A garden of roses, of so many colors. Red, yellow, blue. All of them for you. For that is what our lives are about. A garden of colorful roses, tangled yet scattered, different yet alike, hearts connected by roots. And of course, they have their thorns too."

A noise wrestled with leaves and trees. Sam jolted his head up, looking around furiously with confused fear. Bare feet could be heard, and a voice that seemed to not mind being loud. Sam cautiously stood up, wishing he had never stopped where he was. The Sun was almost in bed, as her nightcap was on and all she needed was to be tucked in and kissed. Sam paid to heed to the details of the dying sky, as his heart raced with both fear and hope. Fear in a way that he wondered if it would harm him, and hope in a way he thought it'd be help. Maybe even Frodo.

Prayers had been answered though, as Sam peeped himself over the bush after much daring. It was the stranger from the day or so ago. But there was much resemblance between him and Frodo. If anything, his face was sterner, much more emotionless, and looked like it had been through many more hardships. Almost a futuristic Frodo.

Not only that, but he was fighting with something that could not be seen. He swung an overly large sword in directions that did not seem random, but like he really _was_ aiming for something. His hair swung, the waves brushing against his dirty face. His eyes, they had a Frodo look to them, but were much, much more lonelier. Too lonely to be the Frodo he knew.

Samwise's heart knew too well, but his mouth did not. He unintentionally let himself go, sliding through the bush and rolling into the stranger's (who wasn't very much a stranger anymore) view. He paid no heed to Sam's foolishness though, as his mind was still set on the beast that only he could see.

Sam notioned to let the scarcely clad fellow know. He was less or so not wearing much clothes. But more rags. Sam couldn't tell if he was a hobbit or not; he had raggedy bags about his feet. He seemed the right height for a hobbit, though. Still, Sam was not convinced it was Frodo. He almost felt the need to pour out a pen and scroll, and right down a list of Frodo-like qualities. Instead, he wrote it down in his mind.

The stranger grunted with fury, now more than ever trying to smite the air with his proud blade. Beads of sweat poured from the cracks of his scalp, and his hair was messier than Mirkwood. Sam closely examined him, but not long enough; the Frodo-looking hobbit disappeared. Sam gave a silent gasp, for one moment the stranger had hesitated, and behold! the next he had disappeared. Such devilry! It brought such a thought to Sam's mind!

Sam stood up, in a shock and a bleak memory crossed his mind. One of which he hoped never to think of again. "Damn it all!" he kicked the ground.

Moments later, the now feared stranger had reappeared before Sam's dreary eyes. Sam made no haste with questions, he had already begun the second his face had showed itself again. He felt as though he deserved to know the answers, for he had been through much sorrow and toil. The hobbit stranger, however, made no haste either. He sneered, barked back, and tried to hurry along, avoiding Sam as much as possible.

Sam only followed. Even if it _were_ to make things worse.

"Who are you?" Sam demanded. Sam's nescience was sure end up on the edge of a knife.

No reply, as usual. Sam lowered his brow, with a determined look. He'd force it from him, if need may.

"I ask it of you again. I am very weary, and I don't plan on sleeping. I haven't eaten for days," he laid a hand on his empty stomach. "Which surely isn't good at all. Wouldn't like me on a empty stomach, I'll warn you that!" He smiled at his own witty words.

"Samwise," the voice mumbled. Sam awoke from the dream he felt stupid for dreaming; he had remembered how this stranger knew his name so long ago. "You needn't learn what I need to teach you, you will not need it where you are going."

The stranger lowered his head, smiling as the dark surrounded him only. Sam stood, facing the strangers back, wondering what expression he was wearing. The strangers Frodo hair shook back and forth with a dreaded 'no', beginning to say in a calm voice, "If you must know who I am," he turned about, feeling the need to expatiate. He still allowed the darkness to find his face. "I am merely a hobbit."

Sam wished he were out of the mess he dug himself into, repeating to himself a familiar quote, 'what a pickle we're in now, and no mistake.'

Words came from the strangers mysterious mouth, words that Samwise did not wish to hear of. He only knew in his mind one thing: Frodo lived. And Frodo was near. He had a feeling...

"If you want to know what it was I was fighting, it was my worst enemy." A pause followed this slow sentence. "Myself."

"Or should I say my worst enemy is now you? I most desire to have you head upon this blade!"

He drew his thick, wide sword, and swung it with no effort towards Sam. Sam screamed jumped, just barely missing the deadly edge. Sam tried to move his slow body around to get a better glimpse at the stranger. He jumped and dodged every swing. The blade came down like reflections of lightning all at once, aiming for Sam.

Sam swung himself about, running around a tree, and he began to run backwards. Randomly tripping backwards, he'd eagerly save himself and stand upright again. Just so, the stranger now swung hard and fast, and Sam bent backwards and forwards to miss the accurate aims that the hobbit would throw at him.

The hope of Sam thinking the stranger was not Frodo, had completely fell through, for lo! a deadly star appeared from the strangers undergarments. A deadly star Sam hadn't seen in days and wished to never again witness. What an omen it was!

Sam ducked for the last time, yelling "That horrid thing! Oh curse it all, my Frodo what has happen to you!"

"To me?" Frodo replied. "What has happened to you? Attacking me the way you did! Samwise, you truly have no clue! Friend of friends indeed, a friend of friends that was never to be. For I have only one friend now." He held the ring up by the chain around his neck and held it preciously. He held it almost motherly.

Sam looked away in disgust and called back, "Master Frodo! Do you know what you are saying? Have you no more will? The ring has been tricking you! Or some devilry! I would never hurt you!"

"You lie to me, Samwise Gamgee!"

Frodo's eyes burned with tears. Sam felt his heart sink, and the roses that he hoped to grow so lovely, had died. The night was covered with the darkest of clouds, and not a star would come out. It was a night that would cause death. Death to Samwise's beloved Frodo. What had become of his master?

Sam begged to his knees, "Mr. Frodo..."

"No, Sam. I love you. And now I hate you."


	9. Hate & Love

and when i doubt,  
i'll look east and lock my heart  
in a brass box to newfound mass  
i'm breaking off...but this is my home

i'd do anything for you, give you  
the world if i could. is that what you  
want me to do? these bridges and boundaries  
are bring me closer to you...

i want to dedicate the last chapter of my fic to the following: veggie, Emily (also known as River Daughter) and Andunhin. thank you, for all the support! ^_^

**Note:** Song used in this fic is the **Ruri** version of "You Get To Burning" not the original, the Ruri/Minami Omi one only.

----

_My heart..._Sam cried to himself, regaining consciousness. _It's burning..._

His burning eyes were an indomitable amount of pain. He could no longer hold back the angst in his heart; it wanted out. He couldn't contemplate what was wrong with Frodo anymore. Sam's only hope was that Frodo needed to be talked to, or it'd lead to both of their deaths, or just Sam's. He laid on the ground though, unable to stir. He'd predict any moment now, Frodo would come crashing in on him.

Sam's body felt cramped. He was unable to move himself. His long living will to live had died, or was about to. The greatest flame in his heart had gone out. If that flame were to be born anew, it'd be a black flame, representing hate and pain. The feeling churned inside him, but he used all the good inside of him to keep it away. He pushed it away madly, hoping he wouldn't be stripped to his last resort. He wouldn't let that happen.

Where had Frodo gone though? Certainly he wouldn't leave Sam unharmed lest Sam had no idea why.

"What was it Mr. Frodo was fighting, anyway?" The words caught up to Sam again, remembering Frodo's wicked grin say, _It was my worst enemy. Myself."_

Sam shook his head. Frodo's own voice had become real, as it echoed among the trees. The echo was almost soothing, save for the words that came along with his heavenly voice. Sam felt like he was being persuaded, it was like watching a pie cool on the windowsill. Almost irresistible.

"Samwise," Frodo sang in threatening tone. "My dear Samwise, come show your splendid face! I much would rather see that than anything else. It's much prettier than an orcs."

"I don't know whether to feel insulted or honored," Sam mumbled to himself. He began to crawl from the marshy grass he was in, and behind a tree he sat himself down again. Hopefully he could hear Frodo better, without being seen.

Frodo's voice became more strict, "Samwise, if I were you, I'd come out. Because you have an angered Frodo on your tail!"

"Angered?!" Sam shouted, revealing himself from his hiding place. "Begging your pardon, Master Frodo. But what have I done? What have I done to anger you?"

The reply wasn't quick. At least, not as quick as Frodo came charging forward, sword already drawn in his small hands. Again, as he swung, he aimed for Sam's sides. Sam would bounce away, trying to avoid the tip of the blade. He tried reasoning with Frodo, hopping in his face so often so his words made clear.

"Mr. Frodo," he called out, ducking once more. "Don't you think we should talk it over? I mean, giving me a moment to explain myself, or at least understand. Get what I mean?"

Frodo's voice stirred up, creating a thunderous scream. He lifted the sword above his head and tried to smite Sam from above. Sam was driven away, still calling out, "Please!"

"No, no, no!" Frodo cried. Every so often, Sam would almost feel pity. Pity for himself. How was it his reasoning words made Frodo's eyes dwell with tears? He still longed so, to wipe the tears from the bottom. Sam wanted to cry himself; his eyes were parched. No good crying with a dry heart. But whatever sorrow he wanted to show through his eyes, he'd show through his mind and movements. He'd avoid all he had to not harm his Frodo. No, not when Frodo didn't do these things purposely. He believed with all his heart that Frodo was being controlled.

Hopefully.

Sam needed some way to show Frodo that he hadn't done a thing. Words wouldn't fit the puzzle, either. Such a beautiful puzzle once had almost been completed, but someone came and ruined it. Ruined every part that made it special. Now, the placing had become slow and all attempts failed. Only one right way to fix it, and Sam had not the slightest clue.

Sam drew a heavy breath, as he kneeled, hands stained with earth pressed against his trousers. Such memories would bring him back to that seen. Being a small lad, he'd run and play, in the dirt. He remembered his hands being dirty one day, and wasn't allowed to eat. Small things like that meant much to him, in a strange way. Of course, he hadn't eaten proper in a few months. He wished he were small again.

He was awoken from his dream by Frodo though. Cold iron pressed against his neck, and it sent a wave of freezing stabs down his back. A scared reverie overtook him, but it wasn't very silent. He almost screamed; Frodo had allowed him to stand up. The blade was still settled between his neck and shoulder as he stood up. He met his lively eyes with Frodo's dead ones. They had been stabbed. The colors had died. They had faded.

It overwhelmed dear Sam.

Sam couldn't look anymore. He use to look into Frodo's eyes and see his own reflection. As if he were Frodo's. As if Frodo has caught him, and had always loved him. Sam couldn't see his reflection anymore. _I've forgotten what I look like, _he wept inside. _In Frodo's eyes I am nothing, is that so?_ He shook, and finally, his eyes beaming, a river slowly forming, he fell from the swords touch and landed to the ground, hugging Frodo's legs.

"Frodo! My Master Frodo! You've frightened me so much! I can't see myself in your anymore! As if all I've related to you has died! What has happened? Tell me! I can't stand anymore madness! All I feel is this madness...this horrid madness, pulling at me from all ends!" He dug his face against Frodo's knee, holding it tightly. "You must understand...Don't you?"

Frodo looked at Sam, with a look full of mourn. His eyes beaten against Sam's, with much pity and toil. Sam felt he had gotten through to Frodo. At least, his master's face didn't seem to look at him in scorn any longer.

Frodo's mind was anything but that inside, though. It was a continuing line of voices, telling him to kill Sam. He was merely contemplating his next move. Or was he? _Cry for me?_ Frodo whispered inside. Frodo bent down, his eyes meeting Sam's.

Sam was reminded of that time again, when he had fallen and his bag had lost everything. He wanted to smile, but he just sat there, in a still of time. Yet bliss covered his body. Sam was being embraced by his dreams. He had had so many dreams such as this, where Frodo was there before him. Sam's world turned into silver.

Frodo reached his hand out the small distance they were near, and he wiped Sam's tears. His hands caressed Sam's red face and drowned eyes. The softest thing Sam had felt for days. A shining face before him, taking care of him. Nurturing him. Finally...hope had landed safely into Sam's arms, and finally, he could trust the world again.

Frodo wrapped his arms about Sam. A spiritless embrace...

Something had happened then that Sam did not intend. A dark hand reached about both of them, painting the world Sam finally came to knew dark and bold. Everything became dead through his eyes. It spreaded, and where it originated; all things pointed to them. Sam's hope had fled, in hope of finding a more happier person. And as Sam still sat there on his knees, arms still about a now gone Frodo, he felt a slap. No, more like a hard punch in the face.

The color had faded in his own eyes. His own eyes that he used every morning to paint the world with. Bitter now dwelled there.

Frodo awakened him with a kick. Pain threw Sam to his back, and he cried in pain. It didn't hurt as much as Frodo's cold eyes against his, wiping his own tears. No, nothing was worse than that.

Frodo wouldn't stop to think of the pain he caused Sam. Frodo's eyes were still forming in tears and watering the ground on which Sam was beaten on. It confused him much. He didn't want to see Frodo cry, even if he _was_ beating him senseless for no reason.

Sam looked up upon Frodo, who seemed to move like a marionette. He kicked, and backed away repeatedly. It was a routine almost. A dance. But still, Sam looked upon Frodo and tears formed from his pained eyes. He reached his hand out, trying to touch his master, but Frodo would only scowl and slap it away, avoiding all contact. Only the contact of his foot to Sam's side. It seemed to neither please him or pain him.

Sam stirred finally, coughing up much blood. It trailed down from his mouth, souring the soil. His body twitched, and he dug his fingers into the stained ground; his heart pleaded for something to hold. The taste of blood almost intrigued him, as much as it did to Frodo. For Frodo grinned, success spreading through his mind. He wanted to see more blood flow. His own rushed by with a feeling of anguish and need.

Slowly, his profile reflected off the mirroring of a blade slowly drawn from his sheath. Where all Frodo's weaponry came from, Sam did not know. But he could see Frodo's emotionless face reflect to his own. Only then, could Sam understand Frodo's pain now. It seemed to show differently from the angle of a sword, than face to face. Something was in Frodo. Something that had been there, but had been released, by something only as powerful as a demon could.

_My worst enemy. Myself._

That quote rang through Sam's head like a supper bell. It attacked him like a dreadful orc. It hit him as obvious as the setting sun. Sam roused himself up, and before Frodo could sweep the edge along Sam's skin, he grabbed onto the hilt. Frodo gave a struggle, trying to get Sam to let go of his dagger, but Sam wouldn't move. Not when he knew how to save his poor Master.

"Let go," Frodo growled. He tried to sweep his arm around, enough to have the knife dig into his fellow hobbit's skin.

Sam was swift. As soon as Frodo attempted, he himself used his free hand to pinch Frodo's wrist. Frodo gave a small gasp of pain, and released his grasp on the sword's end. He gave a threatening look of shock, and finally let go of his tension. He had quit struggling; he had let Sam take control. 

"Now listen, Mr. Frodo." Sam still held onto Frodo's wrist, but placed his now free hand onto his master's shoulder. "You need to stop this! I never tried to harm you! I only looked for you. Because I never meant to do you wrong. No, I never will. I only care for you, Frodo. You're my dear Frodo, of whom I'm willing to die for. If I did hurt you...I never will again..."

The horizon in Sam's eyes grew with a watery haze. His eyes matched Frodo's, for Frodo began to weep too. Without another thought, he wrapped his arms about Frodo, and wept into his neck. Frodo grabbed onto Sam's hair, and then let his fingers sail through the waves.

Content filled their hearts. A view of them in such a rejoicing embrace could be seen all throughout that unknown land. They weren't far from a ledge. When you fell off that ledge, you'd have a tour of the whole landscape for miles around. The bottom led you to a rocky wave of rapid waters, but seeing straight out you saw miles of fields and mountains as far as their eyes could see.

The tress of green that spread with a world of white, had caught their eyes. Specially the eyes of Frodo.

"Sam, you don't understand still. Why do you think I left?" He pushed Sam away, too close as he almost slipped off the side. Sam's heart began to rip inside, screaming. He wanted to stand up and slap Frodo, and tell him he was full of much garbage. He had no reason for beating upon his Sam. But if he didn't, then why at all? After all Sam had done for Frodo. After all of it...all he wanted to do was have Frodo lay his head upon Sam's lap, and let him watched over his master.

Frodo grabbed his dagger blade again, and stared at it in deep thought. He turned his eyes of fire towards Sam. "If you believed that such a demon was inside me, controlling my feelings, you were correct. But alas, too late. For such a thing that dwelled inside me, I defeated. And now, a new demon lays within me...and it won't rest. You are in my way, Samwise. And I will kill you, as you have me. And with this ring, I will be happy with only myself."

Sam's eyes were glazed with tears as he called to Frodo, "I never killed you!"

Frodo looked insulted from the inside. "Yes, you did...Whenever it was I left you, that is when you changed on me."

Sam couldn't believe a word. "No, no! You changed on me!"

"Sam, you hurt me! When I was asleep! Oh and how I longed to see you again. I had searched for you, after regretfully leaving you. And you attacked me. And you gave me no pity for now you try to comfort me." Frodo put his hand to his chest, and swung it out. He was pouring his heart out. "I had been so weary, Sam. I had heard a song surround me. It betrayed me. That song was from you, I knew it was. Had I known you sung it then, I'd of looked for you! But it was leading me to a web of hurt!"

Sam still could not believe a word and yet it fit into the puzzle perfectly. His clothes covered in dust; his hands covered in blood other than his own. It was certain enough he had fought with Frodo and ended up where he was that morning. Sam gasped, for he had solved the puzzle. A bit more effort and the puzzles would finally be in lest getting passed Frodo's heart. He had to dig into his master's soul somehow, and call to him.

Another question lay on his mind though; why had he done it? Had a demon controlled him too? Possibly, just possibly, it was a feeling inside him that needed to be let out...that only a demon heard only through tale's could reveal. Yes! Finally, Sam knew! That day he had first met with this side of Frodo, he had bitterly been attacked by a transparent darkness. It was a beast that fed on souls. Souls that were lost.

But it was too late for Frodo. Frodo had defeated the demon, and still now his heart lingered on hateful expressions. Sam didn't know what to do, except finally ask what it was he needed to know from Frodo. "Frodo, why did you leave me that night?"

Frodo's parched lips trembled. His body had shivered as his scantily clad body was being brushed by chilling winds. And so, his response came forth, soothing Sam's ear and yet making his heart stir with passion. "Because I love you."

The wind lay bare now. It stroked against Sam and finally rested. He could no longer handle his undying words. He wanted to show Frodo his love. Could that save Frodo from an untrue hate?

The answer came clear. It had pierced Sam deep into his flesh. It left open a wound that cried of blood. The wounds tears were not of salt, but it poured the blood of Frodo's hate. Frodo had stabbed Sam in the leg. Surprisingly enough, Sam did not cry. He winced with pain, he felt the warm river climb down his leg, and he knew now he could not reach Frodo. _This isn't like me, _Sam looked up at the sky that now turned a into a world painted of red and hate. _I'm giving up...without trying..._ Sam tumbled backwards, almost falling in a pool of his own blood. But the words he had thought had held onto him, and gave him wings to fly back up. Frodo did not hack away at him, but just swung his dagger about in Sam's direction, almost blindly.

Blinded he was. His eyes stung with tears that could overflow the Anduin or drown the Ford before Rivendell. His visions blurred with nothing but a sea of pain. Frodo was drowning in hate, and it seemed he was pitying himself. Had Sam only been something to thrash upon? Frodo was letting out what he needed to let out, but he was harming Sam in the making. And he would never know.

Frodo swung his dagger about once more, as he saw Sam's shape through the water. He gave a low cry, and with Sam shouting and grabbing hold his hand, Frodo finally realized he had fallen off the ledge; with only Sam to bring him back up, or let him go.

"Mr. Frodo," Sam's gaze fixated at Frodo's. Frodo looked desperately up at him, scared of Sam letting go. "Don't worry Mr. Frodo. I won't let go. I would never do that to you, even if you had cut out my heart. Which, sadly, you already achieved of doing. But I'd never let you fall...I'd catch you in my arms before you hit the ground."

Sam was more absorbed in his words longed forever to release, that he had not realized his feet sliding ever more to the edge.

His feet slid, and he dangled by his toes, holding Frodo's weight, and the weight of the ring, by his two hobbit hands. Droplets of tears fell and landed carelessly on Frodo's cheeks. "Mr. Frodo, I dearly and so solemnly love you. I admire everything about you. And my dreams always have you admiring me back," his tears burned along with his words into Frodo's mind. "But I'm very foolish to believe so. I can't dream anymore. This whole journey with you has painfully made me realize that. I can never get you to love me, and even so, you're too good for me."

"Sam..." Frodo cried. "I..."

Sam's tears collided, as his hand slipped, and Frodo fell. Sam's heart pounded, confused as what to do. He saw Frodo's face give a last farewell. _No.._ he screamed at himself. _He can't go! Not with what we've left as!_ Sam let his feet slip, and following Frodo to death, swam through the air trying to catch him, as he said he would.

_**kuyashisha o koraete keri ageta ishi koro | enduring mortification, you kicked a stone...  
hanekaereba daiyamondo ni monaru | if it bounces back, it might even become a diamond.**_

Sam's tears fled for the sky, as he raced to meet Frodo. His body weight seemed to give him an advantage, even as he felt himself floating weightless. Miles to the bottom, and he had forgotten all about death. His mind was set on catching Frodo in his arms. To craddle him. He had to hold Frodo with his last breath...it seemed the only thing he could live for anymore. He needed a tomorrow to look for. He couldn't wake up the next morning knowing Frodo had perished. He would never live the same again. He wouldn't be able to live at all.

_**sugute ni hairu yume nante yume ja nai yo | dreams you can get get right away aren't really dreams, you know...  
demo kanarazu kazau to shinjiteru yo | still, i believe that they'll be granted without fail.**_

Sam reached his arms out, revealing the rocky ground below, yet still so far away. The wind pushed him back, heeding his fall. Closer he came to Frodo, he was shielding himself from whatever it was to catch him at the bottom.

Frodo felt Sam's arms come around him from behind, and Sam whispered into his ears, "Don't worry, Frodo. I'm here now."

Frodo turned his ruffled hair to Sam, eyes drier than anything, yet on the verge of tearing. "Samwise...I never meant to harm you..." his eyes looked pained; he had realized what he'd done. Sam made a hushing sound, and placed his finger against Frodo's papery lips. "I know, I know..." he himself was crying. He smiled through his tears. He smiled through the deep wounds that now covered his body. He smiled for Frodo.

And Frodo smiled back. The one smile Sam hadn't seen for days.

_Pure happiness...tell me, when was the last time I felt such a feeling?_

_**kujikenai kimi ga suki | i won't give in. i love you.**_

Sam would never know the answers to his own questions. Only Frodo could tell.

"Tell me Sam," Frodo said in a patient voice. "How long have you loved me?"

"Forever, sir."

Frodo's eyes swelled. "Don't address me as sir anymore," he said with a grin. "Not anymore. Never again."

Sam blinked, and a tear rolled down his cheek. The wind kissed it away, or had Frodo? Sam couldn't tell, as he was in an enlightened world. He was falling with Frodo in his arms.

_**nakitai toki aru nara | if you ever want to cry,  
soba ni zutto zutto iru kara | i'll always, always be by your side, and so...**_

He grabbed onto Frodo's hand, and squeezed it with much love. One arm Sam had still left about Frodo, and they held onto each other, as they hit the icy water.

Blood floated from the wound in Sam's leg, and led up to the surface of the water. His vision of Frodo was lost, but his hand wasn't. Sam would squeeze it, and often kiss it once or twice. But it led them back to each other. They drifted ashore, and Frodo's breathing was heavy. A strange fear overcame Sam if Frodo would die, but it was nonsense.

He held onto Frodo's hand, and laid his body against the rocky shores along the river. They didn't die. Frodo was drowning still. He shook and chills ran about his body. He shrieked in much attempt to scare away the pain, but it made Sam feel helpless.

_**you get to burning  
kimi rashiku hoko rashiku mukatte yo | face it proudly, as befits you   
muchuu ni natta hibi ga yume no kakera sa | those days when you're enraptured are pieces of your dream**_

He grabbed onto Frodo's cold hand, and kneeled above him. "Frodo," he rubbed his masters hand, trying to help him warm up. Sam then rested his body next to his Frodo's, wrapping his arm about him, and whispering into his ear.

Frodo turned his head to Sam, after a long silence of worrying. Sam saw something grow in his eyes, as if he had now belonged to Frodo again. He saw his face grow red inside Frodo's eyes. He saw himself again. He saw where he belonged. Frodo and him were there, together, and finally Sam wasn't afraid to admit to Frodo.

In Sam's own eyes, he saw Frodo there shivering, but also longing. And he kissed Frodo's brow without hesitance, as Frodo recalled in his dream.

_**you get to burning  
sono kakera o atsumete | as you pick up those pieces,  
yuuki, mieru yo to be | i can see you have the courage to be...  
going your days, grow up**_

Frodo did not recoil. Instead, his body warmed to the point where he melted in Sam's arms. He dug his face into Sam's chest, nestling there. "I've found my true home," he mumbled into Sam. "Yes...you are my Shire, Sam. You are my will. You are what drives me to do what I do. It's all for you. I think of you, and ambition grows. You are what makes me, me even. It's almost more complicated then that..."

"Mr. Frodo," Sam said, brushing his hand on Frodo's head. "You are the same for me. You are a gift to me...you are a rose. You have many thorns, yet you are precious. You are unique, delicate, and beautiful."

_**tsubuyaita kimi ga suki | i love you...  
ano hino mama yumemiru | your eyes are always, always those of a young boy...  
hitomi, zutto zutto shounen | they keep on dreaming, just as they were on that day**_

Frodo smiled through the flooding of tears. Many times had he cried recently...and all for a hobbit like Sam. He felt like he had commited a sin; he had harmed Sam the way he did. In his heart, he felt as though there was no reason to it. In his mind, however, he knew why it was he did, and it made clear sense. But not enough for him to ever explain to Sam. For now...he wanted to be in love with Sam. Nothing more.

Sam felt he had something special in his arms. Of course he did, for it was Frodo Baggins. The hobbit that made his heart flutter when he thought of him. Frodo was his world, and would forever be his world. Frodo was his appreciation for life. Or would be now. Yes, forever...when he awakes from his bed, in his hobbit hole, he'd think of Frodo now. He'd think of life. He'd be living.

He'd be living for a reason: His Frodo.

_**you get to burning  
kimi rashiku ai rashiku waratte yo | smile charmingly for me, as befits you.  
muchuu ni nareru hibi ha kitto shiwase | those days when you can be enraptures are truly happiness**_

"Samwise?" Frodo questioned his loving hobbit.

"Frodo?" Samwise smiled.

Frodo answered with haste; he bent up to Samwise, and pressed his lips against Sam's. Their hearts were racing, as the daring move led into moments of more pressing together. Frodo put his hand on the back of Sam's neck, and Sam used Frodo's shaking shoulder to lean on. Sam bent closer to Frodo, and brushed his cheek against his masters.

The last of Sam's tears brushed against Frodo as they brushed together. Frodo let himself go, and whiped Sam's tears from his cheek; his own from his eyes as well. He looked up at Samwise, and saw something there. Someone he could love forever. "Such loyalty behind those windows..." he whispered to himself.

_**you get to burning  
kizutsuite momegenai | realize it, don't dispute it  
asu o mezasu yuuki mieru yo to be | i can see you have  
the courage to aim for tomorrow. going your days, grow up**_

Sam felt the ending to his own story complete. Such a happy ending to befit his lonesome heart. Happy endings were rare in that age, and Sam felt he had achieve something great. In fact, he had always had Frodo in his grasp.

He could swear he saw something lift from his masters body and descend into the night. Hatred had left his body.

"What's that you said, Frodo?"

Frodo shook his head, he only smiled. Such colors sparkled, such beauty. Sam was astonished to have such a person love him back...

"Frodo," Sam quietly said. "I..."

Frodo placed his finger upon Sam's lips and grinned. "No Sam. _I_ love you...Do you hear me?" With one last smile, Frodo kissed Sam again.

"I love you, Samwise Gamgee."


End file.
